


It really takes a fool to remain sane

by Renmiriffx



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: "heavy" petting, Angst?, Establishing Relationship, Flirting, Jim is jealous, Jim is the king of disguises, Jim stalking Sherlock, Jim's being creepy, Kissing, M/M, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sets in S01 E03, Sheriarty - Freeform, Smitten Jim, Some Humor, Texting, damn it, fic contains references to some songs, lemon/lime, lovelydovely things, ooc, well what the heck everybody's smitten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:03:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renmiriffx/pseuds/Renmiriffx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is stalking Sherlock, sets in S01 E03 before the pool scene. Follows some how the episode, but not precisely. Jim and Sherlock are playing their game, but it has different rules and destination. And Jim is oh so desperate for Sherlock's attention.<br/>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had started with shoes, a stupid little fuss over shoes. As it turns out, they both had got started with the same case, the only difference was that the other one committed the crime, the premeditated murder and the other one made a fuss over shoes, smelling something fishy about the drowning. Utterly perfect isn’t it? 

The binoculars felt cold on the burning red blushing skin. The cold didn’t really matter, knowing what was on the sight of the binoculars. Long fingers danced on the violin, moonlight sonata wasn’t it? It really was lucky for the criminal that Sherlock liked to play his violin in front of the window. A clear view from around the corner of Baker Street. He knew that he shouldn’t be there, but he was rather a junky, living and breathing Sherlock. They were made for each other, right? But really, in what way?

The engine of GT 5000 light blue 1969 Ford Mustang was silent, though it was running. You never know when you need to flee in a hurry. Like Sherlock ever would realize who was sitting in the car, but better plan a head than be caught and be striped from all the secrets that he carried with him. All thought he had to be a little proud of his disguise. A mustang was really not his style, Aston Martin or a brand new Porsche 911 lust red would be his taste. But for his kind of lurker, a mustang was a brilliant choice. 

He had been sitting in his car for so long that the taste of his minty fresh gum had worn out. He took the gum out from his mouth with his bony fingers and put it in the ashtray of the car. He didn’t have on his usual Westwood suit, but a normal track suit and a cap witch said ordinary people = shit. The cap was totally corny and silly, but when he had seen it at the market, it had made him laugh, and anything makes James Moriarty laugh was worth buying. 

He didn’t taste the gum in his mouth anymore, he dug up a pack of gold Malboro out of his pocket. Placed one cig between his rosy white lips, light it up with a silver zippo. The first full breath was delightful, he saved the taste in his mouth. He licked his lower lips out of habit, it was that kind of habit that oneself didn’t even realize. Jim was only aware of this habit because Sebastian had pointed it out, though it came handy in undercover, when you had to be completely someone else than yourself. 

He focused back on watching Sherlock play his violin. He looked gorgeous in his purple tight blouse. The thought that Sherlock had no idea just how handsome he really was, made Jim giggle in his car, he almost dropped his cigarette on the seat. How could not someone so bright and brilliant minted man, be aware of something so obvious, oh well, his mind was way too platonic to understand human nature, it’s need for beauty and well… Physical intimacy.

It was only logical to start their little game with case that had brought Sherlock to Moriarty’s attention. Carl Powers shoes. He had finally caught Sherlock’s full attention now. He knew about Sherlock’s love for puzzles, his habit of playing the violin when needed to think, he knew how Sherlock liked his tea in the morning, he knew everything about the man. But sometimes he had a hard time of reading Sherlock’s emotions, like did he indeed have some kind of feelings towards his little pocket pet John. They seemed so tight sometimes, and why would he keep something so boring around him if it wasn’t for sentiment? 

When Sebastian had caught him reading the famous block. He had gotten so jealous about the way John had described his time spent with Sherlock. A fist had went through the screen and everything was painted in red, blood red. Sebastian had giggled and whispered the words smitten. A quick snap to the sniper’s neck, and he was paralyzed in Moriarty’s arms. “My dear, say that again and I will make sure that your empty heart never beats again.” Moriarty had looked Sebastian with such burning rage that it would have set buildings on fire. 

The fact that Moriarty was so jealous about Sherlock, that he just had to check up on him at the hospital and of course check the progress of their little the game. Playing Jim from It, “dating” Molly as disguise. When he was there, he really didn’t even notice John. He was fully focused on watching Sherlock in his natural environment. Playing gay was the only way to make sure that Sherlock would never guessed who he really was. And it had worked so beautifully. Just a gay dude hitting on him, even leaving his number for him. A tiny cell in Jim’s brain did wish that Sherlock would someday call that number, but that was just a fool wish. 

Jim felt optimistic about the fact that his little puzzle would get Sherlock attention fully and that he would forget about the silly doctor, and focus only to the criminal, that was still unknown to him. But soon Jim would make a difference about the fact unknown. Oh he would get to know James Moriarty all right. The cigarette was finished and Jim put it out. The binoculars still on his face and still focused on Sherlock.

Those full rich shaped lips, he wanted to taste those lips, it was lucky that Jim wore loose trousers, it might had gotten a teensy bit tight down there otherwise. He bet that the lips were filled with venomous poison. Kind of poison that would make you to drop in your knees and kiss the ground were the other one walks. It was way too dangerous in his line of work. He was still the bad one with red horns and Sherlock was the one with wings, the one on the side of the angels, all though Jim was fairly sure that he wasn’t one of the angels, but still. He knew Sherlock was capable of evil, in what degree, was not certain.

Jim had to be really careful in his actions, or he would definitely fall in love. Even his heart was grim and black, it still could feel love. Well to be honest not normal domestic love, with houses, dogs and stuff, but love is a splendid thing. It has so many sides to it. Jim really was the army of seven nations, but still he wanted, no, needed, someone by his side. Not a hired man like his ever so dear Sebastian was, he needed an equal. Not for his work, he was more than capable of doing that himself, but for his special mind. He needed someone to understand him. His thoughs and view of the world from a mind that was so different compared to a normal person. 

It really was a shame that Jim would have to burn Sherlock if he didn’t play along the way Jim wanted him to play. Despite the smitten feelings, Sherlock definitely was not allowed to demolish his beautiful network, that had taken so many years, and lives to built. To keep Sherlock in the game was the goal. It had to be interesting, not dull and it had to have element of chase in it. It really didn’t matter who chased who, as long Jim was able to keep all of the strings in his hands. You shouldn’t ever let yourself to become bored, because the results will be catastrophic.

It was time to throw more fuel to the flames. Jim took his phone and started typing. Stuck perhaps? I too adore Beethoven. And send. Jim watched Sherlock carefully, he only hoped that he wouldn’t move away from the window. He really wanted to see his face when he read the text. Jim was fortunate because Sherlock did not move away from the window, indeed he dug up the pink phone from his pocket. The expression on Sherlock’s face was a little confused, but then it turned into to a wild smile. Jim’s phone buzzed, Is this you again? was showing on the screen. A quick reply, maybe, maybe not. It depends who you like me to be ;) What a tease, even Jim himself cracked a smile. 

Moriarty perhaps? Was Sherlock’s reply. It didn’t came as a surprise to Jim that Sherlock knew about him, even though he had been careful, lateral damage had been done for the sake of his identity. It did really make him mad, so really utterly mad, that someone had spilled his name to him, but in the same time Jim felt flattered by the fact Sherlock had been paying attention. Was he been careless or did he indeed wanted subconsciously Sherlock to know about his existence earlier than he indented. 

Well that saves us so time for not having to do the boring introductions. You truly are amazing thing, my darling Sherlock. Let’s see how Sherlock responds to a light flirt and send. Jim chuckled and continued. Oh, and by the way purple looks sexy on you. Jim didn’t took Sherlock for the blushing type, but he had been wrong ones or twice in his life. And there was the burning red homecoming queen blushing, bet his cheeks would have melted even ice at the moment. Make a mental note that Sherlock doesn’t respond well to flirtation. Consider it as a weakness.

No response from Sherlock. Well guess this stakeout is over. Jim had got what he had came here for. The Mustang purred to life and Moriarty drove away. Jim was totally aware that he was aroused at the moment, but that was for another time and place in the future. You totally had to be fool to remain sane.


	2. The disguise master

Back at the mansion of Jim’s, he sat restlessly trying to keep his left leg from shaking. Laptop was on, open in Sherlock’s website, the science of deduction, just waiting for reply. Come on! Solve the puzzle already, it has been almost nine hours, all though he had given him twelve hours to solve the case of Carl Powers. But Jim really was anxious, normally he was patient and totally in control of his actions, but when it came to Sherlock, these fine qualities seemed to fade away. To some place in his mind, been overwritten by smitten feelings. Isn’t that what they say? When in “love” you seem to look at the world through rosy pink glasses. 

Sound of peep echoed in the almost empty mansion. Decorated with taste, cold and gloomy colors like violet, icy blue and grey dominated the place. Sherlock posted something on his website. Oh, a reply regarding their game. Good, he had detected the poison. Good good, now to the next step of the game. Jim told the woman who had been his unwilling voice to come and get her. Jim really didn’t mean to give Sherlock much time before he planned to continue the game. Next piece of the puzzle was already settled out and ready to be carried out. 

Jim sprung of to the bathroom. He stared himself from the mirror, he wasn’t in the best shape. His hair was all over, eyes looked tired, he had pointy stubble. The only thing that was good, were his eyebrows, those were the only things that James Moriarty never left unpicked. When they were shaped right, they made him look a whole lot crazier, which came in handy when he had to intimidate his clients or victims. 

First he shaved carefully his stubble away, he didn’t want to make any nips especially on the neck were the skin was so fragile. He washed his face and applied skin cream on his face. He opened the bottom drawer and picked up a fairly large bag, which looked like a tiny women purse. The bag was full of make-up stuff. He began to apply foundation on his face, then fake lashes and golden brown eye shadow. As a final touch he put on bubblegum pink lip gloss. He rubbed his lips together and came himself an evil wink. 

James Moriarty made his way to his bedroom, stripped his loose track suit away. Even though he wasn’t a messy person, he left the clothes to lie on the floor. He really didn’t have time to fold them now. The lack of clothes reveal his slim white body. Silky and smooth skin, almost irresistible to touch, you just wanted to run your fingers gently from side up to the arm, brush the armpit a little, just enough to make the skin tingle. On his back Moriarty had a tattoo of a roaring lion as a symbol. Like a lion was the king of animal kind, so was James Moriarty of humans, or so he liked to think. 

In the back of his wardrobe was a knee length dress, a light red dress which had laces in the front. He lied the dress on his king size bed. He put on a c-cup sized bra and filled the empty space with cotton wool. Jim squeezed his own “breasts”, nice and soft. He put the dress on, it really was good thing that he was so tiny and slim, he totally could pass as a woman. It was fairly cold outside so he also had to put on cotton blouse which had buttons in front. Jim stringed skin colored pantyhose on, oh, don’t worry he did also shave his legs. Jim was embodiment of perfection, he wouldn’t forget a thing like that. 

Blond or brown, think he’d go with blond. Jim put the blond wig on, it reached his shoulders. He couldn’t afford putting on high heels, he was already an average man’s size. So heelless black leather shoes would have to do. Jim grabbed a purse that matched to the dress and packed it with necessary things, well things that a girl would find necessary. Things like bubblegum lip gloss, perfume and with things Jim needed: a wallet, phone, smokes, lighter and minty fresh gum. A stroke of channel num. 5 behind the ears and black bee like sunglasses on and Jim was ready for action. 

Jim waltzed down the stairs. Sebastian was loitering in the lobby of the mansion. His eyes fixed on Moriarty, his jaw dropped. God, Jim looked like an angel, a pretty pure and innocent angel. The thought of saying that out loud gave him shivers. He most certainly would have been brutaly murdered, so no one would ever find his body. James even might feed him to homeless dogs. Noup, he would not say anything like that. He liked being alive and being close to Moriarty. The things he would like to do to him if things were different. Fuck Sherlock he thought. 

“Would you like to fuck me?” Jim asked kind of rhetorically, but still wanted Sebastian to comment something about his disguise. Sebastian was speechless, the only sounds he was capable of making were gasps “Well, dear… Say something, or should I interpret your silence as a yes?” Moriarty said in a soft high female like voice. Sebastian was unable to move, so he just nodded lightly, never losing eye contact with the criminal mastermind. “Good, that is what I wanted to know” Moriarty leaned closer to Moran and placed a soft kiss directly on his lips. A flirt was in place: “Bet I taste fantastic.” Jim said when he parted away from the kiss, “Thaa thaa for now dear, don’t wait up!” He waved as goodbye leaving Moran sitting there feeling paralyzed. 

In the pink phone Jim had send to Sherlock had an app, which allowed Jim to keep track of the location of the phone. It would have been too easy just to turn the GPS on, because in the end Sherlock might have turned it off, so Jim had to put on his own special app. Cafeteria was it? Jim hailed a cab for himself, he got on, said the address for the cabbie and off they went. It really was boring to use the same trick twice, stalking Sherlock in disguise, but this time he intended to so much more than just to observe him.

There cafeteria was, cab pulled to the side, Jim paid him and went in the cafeteria. Jim saw Sherlock, good riddance he look fine, so fine, Jim just wanted to glomp him. Those curls couldn’t have been natural. The thought of Sherlock sleeping with his hairnet on and curling his hair with iron in the mornings, made Jim giggle. It was fortunate for Jim that his voice had so many sides to it, he could be intimidating, innocent, female, child and many other things, when ever he wanted to be. 

When Jim took his eyes off Sherlock, he noticed John sitting in the booth with him. Arg, Jim was going to kill that little bitch if he ever laid his hands on Sherlock. Fuck him, fuck everybody. Jim breathed steady and waved his hands in front of his face (Like he had seen females to do) to keep his rage under control. He sat two booths behind John and Sherlock. He just had to wait for the perfect moment. He took his wallet and phone away from the purse and put them in his pocket. He hid anything that might add up to him. He had even changed the brand of his smokes to Lambert & Butler. The waitress came to take his order, tea with lemon was Moriarty’s choice. It arrived fairly quickly and it tasted like a piece of heaven, just enough bitter for his taste. 

John stood up and headed towards the toilets. It was now or ever, Sherlock was by himself all alone. Jim started to wander off towards Sherlock’s booth, when he was beside Sherlock he conveniently “dropped” his purse on the floor and spilled his tea on Sherlock’s lap. “Ooops, I’m so sorry, that was clumsy of me, here let me help you” Jim said in his female voice and took a napkin for the table and started to wipe the tea off from Sherlock’s lap. Sherlock’s just shook him off. “There is really no need for you to do that.” He waved his hand as gesture to go away. 

Jim was annoyed by the fact that Sherlock didn’t even notice him. Well he would notice him now… With the speed of light Jim had pressed his lips in Sherlock’s mouth. The lips tasted precisely as he had pictured them to taste. Like blueberry’s and strong white tea. Well the kiss didn’t last long, because Sherlock pushed Jim away. “Lady, what the heck are you doing?” Sherlock said with silly look on his face. “Oh, sorry, nothing, you just looked so astonishing.” Jim said blushing. “Sorry, I’ll leave now.” Jim grabbed his things from the floor, put them back on his purse and dashed away. 

When he got the street he placed his hand in front of his mouth and giggled. He most defiantly would save the taste of Sherlock in his mind forever. He just wanted to tattoo his name across Sherlock’s lips so he would remember who they belong to. Jim dug a cig, light it up, took a full breath and started to walk away with a wide smile on his face, so wide that it could have reached his ear lopes.

Oh, he would kiss the ground Sherlock walked on all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had no point at all, I just wanted to dress Jim as a woman ;)) and make him just a little bit creepier. I'm going somewhere with this fic, it will have a point ( I hope) possibly will contain porn in some form.


	3. Made for each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost getting somewhere, a short chapter. grr, some heavy petting and stuff up on the next chapter ;) I might write it today or tomorrow perhaps, cos' I really don't have the time in the weekend.

Thought of how did the pervy stalker even had time to run his criminal empire had occurred Sebastian’s mind. It seemed that everything the mastermind did nowadays involved the consulting detective somehow. It’s was always Sherlock this and Sherlock that… That, _“we were made for each other_ ”, grab. It just gave the sniper jealous shivers down his spine, and they weren’t the good kind of shivers, mere fact that they were repulsive shivers. Just now James had dashed away dressed as a woman, leaving him paralyzed in the lobby, without able to move any muscle in his body, do to something with Sherlock. It had been a sweet little kiss, Sebastian ran his thump over his lower lip, it was burning hot. Sebastian just wished that it had been something more than just a fucking tease, but it was just a sweet bliss.

It wasn’t like Sebastian himself was in love with James Moriarty, he merely just liked to be around him, to do stuff for him, make him laugh, rule the fucking world with him. Okay okay, maybe he was a little smitten, but just because of the brilliant mind of James’s. His excellent plans, the executions of those master plans. Yup, that was what Sebastian kept telling himself.

Oh well, he couldn’t afford to just sit there, James had indeed given him something to do with his time. While James was stalking Sherlock, _again_ , he had to carry on the game in another way. Trap some poor bastard in explosives and give him a pager. James said that he would do the rest. God dammit Sebastian get up! You need to move, otherwise James will make a meaty pillow out of you. James’s plan had to be carried precisely or else… Blood ran back to the rest of Sebastian’s body and he was finally able to move his muscles. That motherfucking son-a-bitch was his last thought before he left the mansion.

\--

With the disguise already on and the boys still in the cafeteria, Jim might pay a little visit to Baker Street. Oh, like some cameras would hurt anybody. He really couldn’t afford to stalk Sherlock in person all the time. He would rig some spy cams in 221 b, that way he could always keep tap on his darling detective. The cig still in his hand, he made his way to Baker Street, it really wasn’t that far away from the cafeteria, a few blocks away. Jim pressed his sunglasses with his pointer finger deeper in his face when he reached Baker Street.

Jim glanced at Speedy’s. Ms. Hudson was in there giggling, obviously flirting with some man. Good good, now he could slip inside undetected and even if Ms. Hudson should return before he was finished, he could always pretend to be some random client. Making up a story about missing father, boooring, something Sherlock would never find interesting enough investigate on. Moriarty picked the front lock open, quietly like a mouse he walked up the stairs, all though it was a bit difficult since the stairs made awful squeak noises when he put some weight on the steps he made.

The cameras were not bigger than ones fingertip, so they were easy enough to hide. He placed one above the fireplace, one in opposite wall behind the poster and finally one in above the bathroom door. Even though he was one pervy bastard, he didn’t put any cameras on Sherlock’s bedroom, he wanted his love to have some privacy after all. The fact Sherlock might find the cameras someday didn’t make Jim worry one bit. It was most likely that Sherlock would believe them to be planted by the iceman. The big brother certainly would do something like that. Moriarty sneaked out as quietly and quickly as he had come.

Oh snap! Speaking of the devil, there they were, just a half a block away from 221 b. Jim had better dash away before dear Sherlylocks noticed him, because he would most definitely recognize him, or should he say _her_ , from earlier. Hmm, blueberry’s and white tea, oh so _yummy_. This really wasn’t the time to think about that. Half running James Moriarty fled the scene, thinking just a far Sherlock was willing to take their little game.

\--

Several hours later, running and dashing from place to place. Sherlock sat in his green leather chair and had his hands pressed against each other just below his chin. Sherlock had solved the last three tests. Sherlock felt quite flattered by Moriarty’s “talks” and comments. “We were made for each other”. That though had occurred to Sherlock in some form. They truly were made for each, well at least their brains were. They seemed to function in a same way. Two sets of eyes looked at the same world and saw exactly same things, they observed things, they thought about stuff. Well wasn’t brainy the new sexy?

Oh Sherlock was enjoying the game all right. A bit too much perhaps? Sentiment was never really Sherlock’s thing, but it should have been, a human thing to do. Well at least John seemed to thought that way deducting from his behavioral. He started to sound like a nagging wife. “ _There are lives at stake Sherlock_!” Oh so boring. Like Sherlock would give a damn. The only thing Sherlock cared about was the game. He didn’t want anybody dead, but he wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t in it to save lives, but to solve the cases, to avoid boredom. Thoughts ran in his mind, like a map, but central of the map was empty. Sherlock knew Moriarty wanted to be distracted and avoid of being bored. But the most important question was left unanswered, and the question was: _what was this all for_?

And why had the criminal flirted with him? “ _Purple looks sexy on you_?” Sherlock did recognize a flirt, but he didn’t have the faintest idea how to react or how to response on something like that. Well he could play dirty too. Well it was clearly part of the game so Sherlock needed to do some research. “John, can I borrow your laptop” John sat opposite him, not saying a word, just looking vacantly to other direction. He must be actually thinking something, Sherlock could hear him thinking, and it was annoying him. So Sherlock just grabbed the laptop from the table, went to his room and shut the door behind him.

\--

Jim was back at his mansion, watching Sherlock for monitors he had set up in his bedroom. Sherlock looked like he was thinking hard, but a casual smirk was every now and then visible on his face. Jim wondered what he was thinking so hard, hopefully about their game, even better if he was thinking about yours truly. Oh wait, Sherlock took the laptop and went to his bedroom. The criminal was having second thoughts about not putting any cams in there. He would have loved to see what Sherlock was doing.

A few minutes later Jim second phone make a noise, which was the sound of Heath Ledger’s Joker laughing.

**Come out from hiding so I can return the favor. SH**

My god, it’s Sherlock. All the blood seemed to run to Moriarty’s cheeks. Damn they were hot. Remember the feeling of waiting a text from the human being you fancied when you were a teenager? Checking your phone all the time, giggling when hearing the others name, couldn’t sleep because of the smitten feeling in your abdomen, like butterflies. Well that was exactly how James Moriarty felt at the moment. Normally it would have taken just seconds to reply a text, but this time Jim had really think about what he was going to say, plain it good so to speak.

**It depends how bad you want to see me darling. JM**

That should keep him quiet and Jim would still have the upper hand in the game. At least Jim thought that his text had been clever.

**Oh so badly, I just want to touch you, to feel if you are as hot as I am. SH**

Jim literally fell to the floor from his chair. Motherfucker, how did that happen? Where had Sherlock learned to speak like that. I mean he cracked a flirt. Okay okay, Jim play it cool, play it cool. You can’t show to him that you were affected by that. Jim climbed to his bed, at least now he couldn’t fall to the floor.

**I wouldn’t put it exactly like that, I’m not hot, I’m burning my love. JM**

**I want to see, I _need_ to see. SH**

**If you insist. Hmm… Meet me in Hampstead cemetery at midnight. JM**

**I’ll be there. SH**

**Oh, and by the way, please leave your boring pet at home. JM**

This was bad, really bad. Jim shouldn’t do this. It was way too dangerous, but wanted to. There was an awful burn down there. He really needed to take a cold shower. How the hell was Sherlock thinking he was? Some sedative drugs would be nice, because Jim was merely 15 % in control of his behavioral. But it was going to be so much _FUN_.


	4. You are not bored now, are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buhahaa. They are just so sweet together.

What Sherlock was really addicted towards, was finding a cure for his boredom. He did get off on solving crimes and stuff, but being bored was his worst nightmare. And Moriarty was being so delightfully interesting at the moment, all though he was slightly concerned about the course of their game. Sherlock had just flirted with the criminal. But he had to admit that it had been so much fun, dangerous, but yet fun. 

It was almost ten o’clock in the evening, he’d better start to get ready if he wanted to make the in time. But what to do with John? So much had happened in the last few hours. He wouldn’t just leave him alone would he? A criminal was playing a game with Sherlock, and John seemed to feel so protective towards him. Well it was fairly late, so John might just go to bed. And Sherlock could just slip out his bedroom window when it was convenient. 

Sherlock slipped back in the living room.  
Sherlock summoned up his most concerned voice and said: “The bomber seems to have stopped kidnapping people, you should go to bed. You haven’t really slept in days.”  
“Yeah, you might be right, I should sleep. Are you going to be okay? I mean shouldn’t you sleep as well?” John replied.  
“Me? No I’m fine, I’ll sleep later.” Sherlock said and disappeared somewhere in his mind. 

\--

Jim stepped out of the shower, it had been soothing enough. What should he wear? First impression was the most important right? It’s how you divine a person really. This time Jim intended to go fully as himself, well he was going to look like himself and dress as he would dress. But a mask? Oh yeah, he would wear a mask all right. Not a real mask, like superhero’s had, but more like a mental mask. Can’t let Sherlock too close, otherwise he would most likely just break him down. Strip him naked, so to speak. Then there wouldn’t be any mastermind left, just an empty vessel.

A “casual” Westwood suit would be lovely. He’d go with the grey one. It made him seem more innocent, not so crazy, because he really didn’t want to scare his beloved Sherlock away. And besides grey brought more color to his face, which normally was so pale, more like porcelain really. It would go well with his eyes as well, which were chocolate brown with just hint of green in them when light stuck them from the right angle. Yeah, grey would be really nice.

Jim got dressed, a white blouse, natural white tie, polished black leather shoes. Hair neatly combed back. A sweep of cologne on the cheeks and neck. People were in fact attracted to each other by scent, not by looks, which most people assumed, but no. Straight to heaven by Kilian. That was exactly where Jim wanted to send Sherlock, not literally, but mentally… Yes. Jim glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight, he’d better get going then. He passed Colonel Moran in the lobby. “I’m going out, and you better not fucking follow me, okay dear, hm?” Jim announced looking angrily at Sebastian. Moran looked back with a frightened puppy dog look on his face. “Y-yes, understood boss.” And so James Moriarty vanished into the nippy night. 

Hampstead cemetery was ahead, the air smelled like rain. Well rain itself doesn’t smell like anything, but it does bring life to everything else, it carries the scent of everything with it. You could say rain smells like life, tree leaves, grass, mud, everything, a live. Jim hopped to sit on tombstone, slightly leaning backwards, left leg on top off the right one, arms crossed resting on his chest. Time to put the poker face on, he slit his hand symbolically in front of his face, from forehead to chin. Like he was hiding his smitten smile and changing it to a devilish grin.

Sherlock appeared from the tree shadows, which were around the cemetery. Hands behind him, blue and black scarf tightly around his neck. Just gorgeous.

“Hi” Just a cold hi. Moriarty’s voice was so low and cold, like it could have iced the surrounding air where it floated for a moment, before vanishing in the wind. 

“Moriarty I presume?” Sherlock said and reached his arm to shake Jim’s hand.

Jim hopped off from the tombstone. He placed his hand on Sherlock’s hand and shook it lightly. The hand felt surprisingly warm considering it was fairly cold outside.  
“James Moriarty, but please do call me Jim.” Jim took his hand back and slid them his pockets. “It’s so nice to chat properly, don’t you think?” Jim said while licking his lower lip.

It just occurred to Sherlock, that this was the man from the hospital.  
“You are Jim from IT, aren’t?”

Now he saw the man in completely different light. He really hadn’t paid much attention towards the gay Jim, but now when looked at Jim, he saw a cold calculating man in front of him. But he had to say that Jim was indeed beautiful creature. Pale smooth skin, round lips, small body, thin feature. Jim’s nose so straight, that even Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was natural or molded by a knife. 

“Well that wasn’t very impressing deduction, but yes. I do enjoy a little spying. You know when I was little I wanted to be a spy, the got to do all sort of nasty things.” Jim glanced at the ground when he said that.

“To impress you…” Sherlock let an annoyed sigh. He took a sharp breath before he began to speak again.  
“I know what you just said was a lie. I know you chose that suit with care, bringing out your eyes and skin, so you consider this meeting some sort of a date .” Sherlock sniffed the air before he continued: “I also know you are wearing straight to heaven by Kilian, is that what you are planning to do me? Sherlock was so pleased with himself right now. Sherlock had on a confident smirk, generally his face said, beat that you bastard. 

This is the point where the red boinky cartoon fist comes and hits you in the face and then the little birds fly around you head. Jim hadn’t expected that at all. Jim had counted on that Sherlock was glueless when it came to human emotions and well things like dating, Jim thought that the man had never dated in his life. Jim just wished that the ground would swallow him up straight to hell where he belonged. What the fuck had happened? Yesterday Sherlock had blushed like teenager from a light flirt and now his was full of confidence. What exactly had happened when he had been alone in his bedroom with John’s laptop?  
Now Jim, play it cool.

“That applies to you also my love. I strap people in bombs, you play along with my game, not because you need to save the poor people, but because you like it. You get off on it. Just the look on your face even now, so pleased. Cos you are not bored right now are you?” Jim took a step ahead closing the distance between them. Running his hand across Sherlock arm, looking cravingly directly in his eyes. 

The touch of Jim’s hand felt soft… It might have given Sherlock shiver if his coat wasn’t in the way. Sherlock glanced at those rosy white lips.  
“Can’t say that I am. I do enjoy this.” The smile on Sherlock’s face was genuine. “But why are you doing this? Not because you are bored, or want to be distracted, not really.” 

Sherlock caught Jim licking his lips. Pupils dilated. Could it really be that simple? What if Jim words hadn’t been teasing, genuine? Sherlock didn’t give Jim any time to answer, but he did answer in his own question. “Might it be because you fancy me?”

Jim’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead.  
“And just where you got that idea from? If I may ask?”

Sherlock chuckled. “Well I did watch lots of grab telly, The bold and beautiful, Jersey Shore, just wonderful shows about human behavioral. And the mere fact I just googled 10 signs he really likes you, and when I think about it now, they are just spot on, Jim.”

So that’s how he knew about firthing and stuff. It was so obvious and dumb, that is was actually pretty clever, Jim had to admit. But there was something else.  
“Yeah, but where did you get the idea to even google things like that? Ah, don’t even answer to that, it’s better if I just show you…” Jim close the distance between them completely, got on his toes, grabbed Sherlock by his scarf and pressed his lips against Sherlock’s. 

Sherlock had been caught off guard, hands at his sides, in defensive form. But there was something familiar in the taste, ah, the weird lady from the cafeteria? Had that really been Moriarty? Amazing disguise skills Sherlock had to admit. He’d better not tell the criminal anything, make him think he had the upper power. But the kiss seemed to change his boredom in to a sweet bliss. Moriarty’s tongue brushed lightly Sherlock’s own tongue. The lips felt so soft and good, that Sherlock felt dizzy, why was he feeling light-headed? It was just a kiss, a mere kiss, it meant nothing. But instincts took over his body. Hands found their place in Jim’s hips, pulling him as close to himself as it was possible. As odd as it was, Sherlock didn’t want to apart from the kiss, but that was inevitable. 

Slowly Moriarty pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between their lips. Eyes locked on Sherlock’s sparkling blue ones.  
“Do you see now? I fancy you and you fancy me.”

Sherlock took a sharp breath. “I do not fancy you” Voice almost breaking.

“Didn’t mommy tell you not to tell lies? Because your body says otherwise, love.” Jim said, his head tilted slowly from side to side and eyebrows shifted from high to low. 

Sherlock was quiet, didn’t say a word. 

“Fine, be like that, but I will make you admit it Sherlock.” Jim said slightly annoyed, but a devilish grin on his face. He pulled Sherlock into another kiss. This kiss was way more passionate compered to the other. The air was hot between them, mouths moved faster, more rabid. Jim’s hand was on Sherlock head, gently pulling his hair. The other hand found his way on Sherlock’s bottom. Squeezing it, making it come closer to him, so close that their hips rubbed against each other. Moriarty didn’t care about that he was aroused, because it was so much better to feel Sherlock’s arousal against him. 

Jim slipped his hand on Sherlock’s front. Giving it a few firm strokes. Jim pulled Sherlock’s head down, making their lips be separated. Jim glanced Sherlock askingly, eyebrows high. But Jim saw pure lust in Sherlock’s eyes, pupils wide as plates. Good good, Jim was so pleased that he smiled. Jim just ripped Sherlock’s scarf away. He looked at the beating vein in Sherlock’s neck. So beautiful. He gave little sweet kisses to it. Jim licked the neck before he started to nip the thin skin. That made Sherlock to make such lovely little moans, they were almost unhearable. Jim smirked against Sherlock’s neck. He sucked the sweet skin, which made Sherlock just shiver. Jim looked back at his masterpiece. Yes, a burning red mark on Sherlock’s neck.

As bad as it felt, Jim had to stop, if he wanted to keep the game running. He let go off Sherlock and took a step away from him.  
“Well darling that was fun, if you want more, you have my number.” Jim said, and started to walk away. “Oh and by the way, I’m keeping this as a souvenir. Good luck going home looking like that.” He was waving Sherlock’s scarf on his hand. “Till next time Sherlock.” Jim said, giving the detective an evil wink.

Sherlock just stood there, his mouth slightly open. What the fuck had just happened? The burn on his trousers was unbearable. Was he indeed in love with the criminal?


	5. painfully teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everybody loves smut ;) I know I do.

Sherlock shook his head, no way in hell was he in love. He barely even knew what love was. Domestic love? It had boring ring to it. Shopping together, walking hand-in-hand, kissing public, doing everything together, doing everything for each other, to die for the other. Yup, it definitely wasn’t love. But to fancy Jim Moriarty? Yes, that sounded right. Sherlock really couldn’t argue with his body. The way it had reacted to Jim’s touches, to his kisses… Sherlock lightly brushed his thump over his lower lip, he still felt the burn, the soreness. Attraction, no way he would ever admit that to Jim. To keep the game going on. Oh, and did Sherlock want to play. A wide smile spread to Sherlock’s face when thought just how he would torture Jim, tease him. Oh, it would be so good.

Sherlock kept rubbing his neck while he walked back to Baker Street. He just hoped that John wasn’t awake. It would be all good when he’d get home, good thing he had various collection of scarves. Little bit of make-up and a scarf and no one would ever know about the hickey. Thoughts about hickeys made Sherlock chuckle silently.

He opened the front door of 221 B, no sound. He sighed out of relief. John was snoring. Sherlock slipped in his room, shut the door, thinking about was he going to get any sleep at all. The tingling feeling in his body. Sherlock felt the urge to touch himself… down there. Quickly he shook the thought out of his head. What had Jim done to him, to make him feel like this? It would all be better in the morning Sherlock said to himself. He fell down on his bed, closed his eyes and kept thinking, analyzing the events of the night.

The morning came fairly quickly. Sherlock got up and wobbled to the living room. Tea had appeared to the coffee table. Sherlock grabbed the mug, took a sip for it. Sweet Jesus it felt divine. Pleasure waves kept running in Sherlock’s body. Maybe he’d watch some telly, news perhaps? Remote, remote, where are you? Bloody hell John, why you just can’t leave it on the table Sherlock thought. It takes so much effort to turn it on by hand. But he didn’t have a choice. Sherlock walked to the telly, rised his hand to push the on/off button, when he saw it. A camera? He didn’t touch it or remote it, he merely just glanced it. Hopefully the cam’s owner hadn’t notice that he had found it, because he had a fairly certain idea just how it belonged to.

Sherlock turned away from the camera just chuckled silently, what a brilliant idea. Sherlock turned the telly on and sat on his chair. Well the camera could be Mycroft’s but most likely it would be his. And besides if it was Mycroft’s, he would just call him and blaablaa, Sherlock, national issues, blaa, government needs you, top secret, Sherlock stop that and blaablaa. Sherlock didn’t really care about Mycroft at the moment.

He just hoped that Jim would be watching. Sherlock fixed his eyes towards the camera. He kept looking intensively straight to the camera for a while. He took a sip from the mug and placed it to the table next to him, never looking away from the camera. Sherlock rised his hand to his face, he put his thump in his mouth and bit it lightly. He started to unbutton his shirt so slow that it would painfully teasing to watch. With three top buttons open, he started to touch his chest and neck. Digging his nails to his neck, clawing it leaving red marks behind. Sherlock kept looking straight to the camera, giving it the do you wanna touch this-look.

“Sherlock what the bloody hell are you doing” Kind of sleepy and angry voice said behind him.

My god it was definitely John’s voice. Instantly Sherlock stopped what his was doing. He remembered the hickey on his neck. He slapped his hand to his neck, covering the hickey.

“Umm, nothing, just a hell of an itch on my neck.” Sherlock said, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could. He was avoiding looking into John’s eyes. “Good morning though, there is tea.” John shook his head, rubbing his face.

“You are one big child, did you know that?” John said sounding irritated.

John took a mug of tea and sat opposite Sherlock, looking him with a million questions in his face.

“I need to do something in my room… “Sherlock said before he disappeared in his room.

\--

As always Jim got up early, boiled some tea for himself. Bitter sweet tea. Jim sat in front of his computer wondering if Sherlock was up. He opened the camera window. There Sherlock was glancing the camera. Fuck, Jim thought. No he would just rip it off, and that ment no more fun for Jim. To Jim’s surprise Sherlock didn’t do anything to the camera. Had he just chuckled, his shoulders seemed to move like that? He just sat to his chair. His eyes fixed on the camera. What was on Sherlock’s mind? When Sherlock started to lick and bite his thump, the tea mug in Jim’s hand fell to the floor.

Was the great Sherlock Holmes flirting with him? Jim didn’t really mind, because it was so good. Jim was licking his lips, definitely aroused. The heat in his body was unbelievable. When Sherlock started to unbutton his shirt, Jim thought that he would lose his marbles. The things he would to do Sherlock’s body kept running in his mind. Just then Sherlock gave him the look. Okay no marbles left, he would fucking rape Sherlock in the first change he could get. Fuck the game, this was way too good. Jim tried to control himself, he saw John entering the room.

Oh, Sherlock’s face when he realized John. It made Jim giggle so much, had Sherlock even blushed a bit? Jim just kept looking Sherlock, giggling, he didn’t care what they were talking about. Then Sherlock left and heated to his room. What a pity, Jim was enjoying the show so much. But then his phone buzzed. Oh, it was a text from Sherlock.

**Enjoyed the show? SH**

**Very much indeed. Got something more for me? JM**

**I might, it depends what you mean by more. SH**

**Well are you ready to admit that you fancy me? JM**

**Let me think about that, umm, no, never. SH**

**You are such a tease honey. I will make you admit it, don’t forget that. JM**

**I would like to see you try. SH**

**Oh, bring it on, a date then? JM**

**My place, let’s say around 8 pm? SH**

**Fantastic, looking forward to it ;) JM**

No reply from Sherlock. Oh, this was going to be so awesome. After all Jim was a dirty little boy. Jim shut the computer, dashing away, well he had to todays work fast if he was going to make it there by eight.

\--

Luckily John had gone on a date with some woman witch name Sherlock couldn’t remember. He would be out late, might be away for the whole night. Sherlock didn’t really know what to expect from Jim, but he was fairly certain it would have to something with sex. Just in case Sherlock had at least seven nicotine patches to keep he as calm as possible. It was almost eight, he took the patches away, leaving one just in case. At the same moment the clock turned eight the door swayed open.

“Missed me?” Jim said with a devilish grin on his face.

“You could say I did, but then again, no.” Sherlock said teasingly.

“Oh come on Sherlock, stop the teasing. I know you did.” Jim was still smiling.

“So, you were going to make me admit something?” Sherlock said in a calm controlled voice, his hands below his chin.

“Yes of course. Stand up for me, if you would be so kind.” Jim said never losing eyes contact with the detective.

Sherlock stood up “Closer, darling closer.” Jim said, his pointer finger was calling Sherlock to come closer.

Sherlock took a step closer to the criminal. “I said CLOSER.” Jim voice jumped from friendly to sinister. Sherlock took yet another step towards the criminal

“Like a said, a tease. My my…” Now Jim’s tone of voice was amused.

Jim closed the gap between them and gave Sherlock a light kiss to the lips, careful not to touch him in any other way. Jim broke the kiss off.

“Now Sherlock my dear, I will be calling the shot here, and your task is to obey them. I think I don’t need to threaten you? I am right. After all I am a bad, bad man. Don’t you forget that.” Jim said looking directly in Sherlock icy blue eyes.

Sherlock nod as understoodment.

“Good, now we are on the same page. And now Sherlock you are going to kiss me. And make it good, or I’m gonna be naughty.”

With that said Sherlock pressed a passionate kiss to Jim’s lips. They both had their eyes closed. Sherlock placed his hands into Jim’s face, lightly brushing them. The kiss itself was moist and heated. Jim’s tongue found it’s way to Sherlock mouth. Exploring the inside of it. It felt warm and wet. Sherlock got the hint and started to rub his tongue against Jim’s. Jim’s hands were on Sherlock back. Moving from side to side, like they didn’t know where they were supposed to be. Their mouths moved rapidly and hands were all over. Just when it got so heated that you could just explode, Jim broke it off.

They both inhaled like they haven’t breathed in their lives. Jim grabbed Sherlock by his blouse and started dragging him towards the bedroom. Sherlock didn’t fight back at all, he seemed willing to go to his room. Perhaps even too willing. Jim pushed them through the door. He loosened the grab on Sherlock and shut the door behind them. Sherlock just stood by the bed. This was going to harder than he had thought. Jim had a wide evil grin on his face.

“Time to pop that cherry.” He said licking his lips. For a moment Sherlock looked frightened, he hid it well, but Jim saw it.

“Relax honey, I’m not gonna fuck you.” Jim smiled. “Unless you want me to.”

“I think I’ll pass.” Sherlock said, you could read the loathing on his face.

“That’s good, because I prefer being fucked, It’s much more fun to play the victim.” Jim said giving Sherlock a wink.

Jim placed his foot to Sherlock’s abdomen, he gave it light push, just enough to make Sherlock fall on the bed. Jim started to take his clothes off, jacket first, then he began to unbutton his blouse slowly, just like Sherlock had done this morning. Jim kept looking Sherlock face, Sherlock eyes followed his hands when he unbuttoned the blouse. Eyes showing sings of arousal. Jim found that very pleasing. Jim left the tie around his neck. He unbuckled the belt, took it off completely and let his trousers just fall off.

Sherlock was leaning against his hands. Eyes just burning from desire. He shouldn’t feel this aroused. This wasn’t supposed to go like this, he was supposed to tease Jim till he lost his marbles. Too much chemicals in the body, making it move. Jim stood there with his boxers on. The tie on his neck and the belt on his hand. He shuffled on top of Sherlock, pinning him down with his hands. All though Sherlock was stronger than him, he still didn’t fight back, at least not his body wasn’t. Jim sat on top of Sherlock holding his hands down.

“I’m going to tie your hands up with the belt and I’m going to blindfold you with the tie. You aren’t able to make any deductions, all you can do is FEEL.”

Sherlock just gulped, not saying a word. Jim put his hands together, tied the belt around them, making it sure that he couldn’t move them. Then he took the tie, covered Sherlock’s eyes with it and tied a knot in the back of his head. With Sherlock unable to see or move Jim lifted Sherlock’s shirt above his head. Jim let his hands freely to feel Sherlock’s upper body. Nipples between his pointer fingers and thumps. He moved his fingers a bit. Sherlock let out almost unhearable moan. It was like music to Jim’s ears. Jim leaned closer to give Sherlock’s neck little kisses. Then the kisses turned more violent. Jim sucked Sherlock’s neck, breaking the thin veins close to the surface of the skin on the neck. Little bruises started to form on Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock bit his lower lip to keep himself from moaning.

“Those are my marks, Sherlock, remember you belong to me now.” Jim said, petting Sherlock face.

“You don’t own me, I’m not a toy for you to break.” Sherlock said hissing.

“I may not own you, but I’m going own your body.” Jim replied.

Sherlock felt hands taking his pants off, brushing over it, which made it move. Sherlock could feel blood rushing downstairs. It made his body tremble when Jim took his boxers off too. Hands around it, stoking it. The first touch of Jim tongue to the tip of it, made Sherlock want to melt into the mattress. Now he totally lost control of his breathing, he could hear himself moaning, like he was beging for more. The mouth around it was so hot, and Jim did something with his tongue which made Sherlock want to give up, it felt too good. A popping sound when Jim freed his penis.

“Still denying it? Are we Sherlock?” Jim put his hand around Sherlock’s neck and squeezed it lightly.

“Oh, did I mention that I like it rough? But I’m not going to hurt you Sherlock.”

… Silence...

“At least not this time.”

No answer.

“Well, it’s your choice.” Jim said, and continued what he was doing before.

This time Jim’s other hand was clawing Sherlock’s chest, leaving angry red marks all over. Jim’s mouth was still around it, deep and long, painfully long sucks. Sherlock just trembled with pleasure. His mind couldn’t handle this much pleasure, even doing cocaine didn’t feel this good. His brains started to make words… “Please…”

It was so silent almost like a whisper. Jim stopped, rised his head and said: “I didn’t quite catch that. You mind repeating it?”

“Please” Sherlock said a little louder.

“Still can’t hear it darling.”

“JUST FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME!” Sherlock shouted.

“That’s more like it dear. Just say it and I will make you feel better.” Jim said clearly pleased with himself.

“All right… I fancy you. I WANT you.” Jim leaned closer to kiss Sherlock properly.

“My god you are cute, don’t worry daddy will make everything all right.” Jim rose up, took a small bottle of lube from his jackets pocket.

He pour it to his hand, and he applied it to Sherlock’s penis and his own bottom. Jim sat back on top of Sherlock and whispered: “It is going to feel so good Sherlock.”

Jim slit it inside him and let out a groan of pleasure. The expression on Sherlock’s face was priceless. First it was terrified, then confused and finally it was all about pure pleasure. Jim hands were on Sherlock’s chest. Fingernails digging deep on the skin as he moved himself back and forth. They both breathed heavy. So much endorphins run in the body, making them just scream from delightment. The bodies just melted together. Unfortunately the moment didn’t last very long, because Jim could feel the tension built in his body. He released himself on Sherlock’s abdomen.

He kept moving all though it was painfully, and when he could feel Sherlock’s tension too he pulled himself out of Sherlock and finished him off by hand. Sherlock’s moans filled the room when he ejaculated. Both of them buffing. Jim leaned to kiss Sherlock and took the tie off from his face. Sherlock kept his eyes closed, body still trembling. Jim stepped off from the bed and started to put his clothes on.

“I’ve cum and it’s been fun, but I’ve gotta dash darling, criminal things and stuff, you understand?” Jim said with pleasing smile on his face.

“Till next time Sherlock, I will bring my box of fun with me.” Jim turned away to leave until he heard Sherlock speak: “It really was fun.” Jim just grinned. “Thaathaa for now.” On his way out in the stairs he bumped into John.

He just glanced John and said: “Hi John.” His grin was so devilish. John just looked him with the fuck look-on his face, but didn’t say anything. Jim’s plan had worked out just the way it was supposed.


	6. Come to the darkside, it's fun in here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap's a bit dark, cos it snowed here today and it annoyed me, cos I thought spring was coming. It's funny how your mood affects your writing :D and more delicious smut up in the next chap ;)

Jim needed to hurry back home, he most certainly didn’t want to miss this. John seeing Sherlock in that state. How would he react? What would he say? Would he be jealous? Because at the moment Jim wanted to shout to the whole world that Sherlock was his property. No one else was allowed to touch him, to hurt him, to hold him, to hate him, to love him. He was Jim’s and only his. It’s not healthy to be this obsessed about anything, above all not about another human being. It’s bad, really bad. But who was to argue with James Moriarty? If he wanted something, he would just take it, no matter the consequences. Someone would get hurt, that’s a fact and Jim knew it, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was Sherlock, he was the only thing that mattered. Ones you get the taste, you are not going to give it up. Only his.

\--

He should feel ashamed, stupid, foolish and many other things, but he didn’t. He was happy. He was happy that it had happened. Even though it hadn’t gone the way he planed it to go. He hadn’t meant it to end up in sex. He meant just to tease him. Sex always complicates things. Always. It didn’t matter how hard you tried, it would affect the weird relationship that they had. What was their bloody “relationship” anyway? Because he found himself wanting more, so much more sex. His body did still want more of it, even he had just had some. Sex, the word still alarmed him a bit. But why should it? Every species mate? Don’t they? Didn’t it even appear in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?

Sex. Was it really something humans just can’t overwrite, no matter how hard you tried to escape from it? He had always thought that he was platonic, that he had fancied him in a platonic way. Was it called platonic love? To be interested in someone in a mental level, without any sexual feelings and needs. As it seems, he was just a mere human, a low goddamn human. At least he wasn’t alone, Jim would be like him. He would understand. The sound of door being shut, broke his rain of thoughts.

“Sherlock? Are you still awake?” confused voice of John’s said.

“Yup, I’m still awake.”

“Umm, I ran into someone in the stairs and he was coming from here. So… Who was he?”

“Some client I think, I just told him to go away, cos it’s late.”

“Yeah, but he said hi to me, and he knew my name.”

“Well he must be reading your goddamn blog.”

“Oh yes, indeed. Well, I’m going to bed, talk in the morning then?”

“…Night John.”

“Night Sherlock.”

***

The smell of tea makes you want to wake up to yet another day. And this morning was special in many other ways. The scent of Jim still lingered in the room. One sniff of the scent, sent Sherlock to a oblivion. Memories about last night. The touch of his fingertips on the sweaty skin. The burn on the chest, which still burned red because of the claw marks. The suck marks on the neck hurt when Sherlock turned his head. Sherlock’s head was filled with emotions and memories, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle them. Sweet and in the same time kind of repulsive. Maybe it was euphoria. Maybe it was tension, maybe it was the love/hate thing? What ever it was, it felt good. Sherlock got up, got dressed. It was a pity that he didn’t own any polo shirts. It would have hidden the hickeys nicely, now he’d have to put on a scarf. He put on a normal blue scarf.

He went to the living area, picked the tea mug from the table and sat down. He glanced at the camera above the fireplace, he’d bet that Jim was giggling now. He had to sit with a scarf on in his own bloody flat. He gave the camera thank you so fucking much for this-look. But then again, real thanks would nice, so he mouthed the words thank you lover boy with a wink for the camera.

“Morning.” John said as he entered the room.

“Morning, slept okay?”

“What is wrong with you lately, you disappear more often to somewhere, you speak weirdly, (at this point John giggled a bit, because Sherlock almost always didn’t make any sense to do him, why ever bother really?) and since when have you started to care about how I slept?”

John took a tea mug and sat down. He looked Sherlock like there was something off about him. He shifted his head and raised his eyebrows.

“And why do you have a scarf on?”

“I just thought it would be nice, you always blather about that I should be more nicer to people and something. “

Sherlock lifted the mug to his lips and took a long sip from it. “And I just felt cold when I woke up.”

“Well in that case I slept fine, even I had a bit of stressful evening yesterday, the date didn’t go as-“

Sherlock raised his hand and said: “I said I was just being nice, I’m not interested how your date went.”

“Of course you are not.” John sighed. “Why I even bother, I could replace myself with a man sized pillow and you wouldn’t even fucking notice.” John muttered to himself.

Sherlock caught himself glancing every now and then at the camera. Was he really that into the criminal? Was it the opposites attract thing or what? Sherlock kept thinking and thinking, why was he sexually attracted to the madman? Could it be possible that there even wasn’t a reason for any of this? It just happened? It just was this way? Was there faith? Had that brought them together? Why it was only him and nobody else? Sherlock hated when he didn’t know things. It was fucking annoying. Why couldn’t he just know why?

\--

 _Thank you lover boy._ For some reason that made Jim smile. It was sweet. It was weird, because Jim didn’t like sweet things, fact he even hated them. As a child all the girls in the school had given him Valentine cards and chocolate every fucking valentine. And it was stupid, at valentine everybody were so lovely dovely and stuff. The thought of it gave Jim shivers. So fucking annoying. The only thing he wanted to do with chocolate was to cover his dick with it and make Sherlock eat it like a lollipop. Oh, that would be so sexy and if he would just bite it a bit, now that would just make Jim lose his mind.

Jim was disappointed that John and Sherlock didn’t have any kind of fight or anything. He would have wanted John to know about what he had done to Sherlock. How he had touched him where no one else had touched, where he had kissed him. How Sherlock’s body had reacted to his touches. He wanted him to know, he wanted him to understand that Sherlock was his.

As hard as it was he’d had to wait Sherlock to contact him, otherwise he would look like complete idiot if he’d beg Sherlock for more. Jim kept digging his fingertips to his thigh to keep his urges under control. Selfharm was the easiest thing to distract the mind. He should get to work.

Several hours later when him and Sebastian were torturing some middleman gangster about the location of his boss, Jim got a text.

**We need to talk. SH**

Jim blushed a bit, what could his darling detective want?

“Oh there is some fucking criminal, blushing over a text like a little girl.” The gangster laughed.

Jim turned to face him, raised his eyebrows, jaw dropped lower, his nose pouted, his whole appearance changed from controlled to just fucking lunatic. The voice which came out of his mouth was so sinister that it even made Moran to freeze.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said that you look like a teenage girl” The gangster said eyeballing Moriarty.

There was a loud bang and blood everywhere.

“Look what you made me do? Now my suit is ruined.” Jim said to the corpse.

The thought that he just killed a man because of Sherlock had sent him a text, made him feel odd. Was he really that smitten? Oh, he knew was insane all right, but this? It was way too much for him to handle. He was supposed to be the one calling the shots here. He was supposed to be in control. He wasn’t supposed to react like this, but he did miss and need Sherlock.

**That was unexpected, here I was wondering that you might want some more of me ;) But if you insist, meet me in downtown in a bar called Swinger’s beer at 10 pm. JM**

**Don’t flatter yourself. Okay, see you then. SH**

“I need to go to change my clothes, Colonel you wouldn’t mind cleaning up here?”

“Yes boss, of course boss.” Sebastian replied like a robot.

Jim stepped in the bar, just some low lives sat in the counter. God they looked disgusting. Dirty clothes and faces, like they hadn’t been washed in a month. And they smelled like the sewer. Why he had chosen this place from all the places? Well at least they wouldn’t be bothered here. He ordered a whiskey on rocks. Black velvet, it really was like velvet when it kind of melted in your mouth. Jim took his drink a sat in the booth near the counter.

The door opened and Sherlock stepped in, looking as gorgeous as ever. Well he did look even more gorgeous than normally, because he still had _that I just had sex_ \- glow. Jim pointed to his direction to invite him to come and sit.

Sherlock noticed Jim and gave him a nervous smile. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, because deep down he know where this would lead them. You couldn’t deny the tension between them and add alcohol to that and you have explosion. Jim’s mouth around him… Sherlock shook his head and exhaled slowly. He walked to the booth and sat down.

“Well hi there love, you want anything, my treat, and mean _anything_.” Jim said emphasizing the word anything while looking down Sherlock’s trousers.

“I’ll have just one drink, umm, I think I’ll have a Irish coffee.” Sherlock replied, avoiding eye contact with Jim.

“That’s fine.” Jim said, and got up to order Sherlock’s drink from the counter.

Jim handed the drink to Sherlock and on purpose touched Sherlock’s hand, just to make him shiver.

“So what you wanted to talk about?” Jim asked casually.

Sherlock took a long sip from his glass and said: “This is going to sound bit odd, but what exactly is this thing between us?” He was finally able to look at Jim

“What thing? You care to specify?” Jim’s eyebrow rose askingly.

“Well I mean this, you fancying me, me fancying you, we having sex (Sherlock lowered his voice when he said that) your criminal and I work for the yard and stuff? I mean why us?” Sherlock explained.

“Why not? Why does anybody do anything? Has everything have to have a reason?” Jim raised his glass of whiskey to his lips, it burned his through when he swallowed.

“Nobody does anything without a reason.”

“I do plenty.”

Then Alice Cooper’s Poison started playing on the speakers.

“Do you know the song?” Moriarty asked.

“I haven’t heard it before.”

“My god, in what jar have you lived your whole life…? Well anyway, just listen to it.”

 _I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_ , Jim lip-singed to the song looking directly into Sherlock’s eyes. Then the song stopped and silence filled the room.

“Do you understand now? It just is like that. You know you shouldn’t, but do it anyway. Call it soul mates if you like, but we were made for each other, you can’t deny it Sherlock.”

Sherlock took another sip from the glass. “Do you mean like that yin yang stuff? The good and the evil has to be in balance? “

“I don’t believe in good or evil. Everybody has a dark side, and that is what draughts you towards me, you know you have it, but you keep it under control, and that is why you need and want me.” Jim said.

“Well doesn’t that apply to you as well? You need my good side or what?”

“Might be, but I just want to own you Sherlock, when I see a thing a like I have to have it.” Jim started to eye-fuck Sherlock.

“You will never own me.” Sherlock said, but he didn’t even convince himself.

“But I already own your body Sherlock, remember that?” Jim pressed his leg against Sherlock’s leg. “See, I touch you even just a little bit and your body reacts to it, because it remembers how good my touches can feel.”

Sherlock was paralyzed. He did want it so badly.

“Say you wanna get out of here, and go somewhere else more private?” Jim said and gave Sherlock the _I’m gonna fuck you brainless_ -look.

Sherlock nodded and they finished their drinks. Jim offered Sherlock a hand, which he grabbed, cos he longed for skin contact with the criminal. They stepped out of the bar and they disappeared into the night of London.


	7. I dare you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I didn't have anything better to do. But there is always time to write smut ;D

The air outside was cold. It smelled like evil, low lives, drug dealers, drunks and other lurked around the corners. Hookers tried to sell them self to them, but Jim told them to go to hell. It made Sherlock feel good, like someone was taking care of him. Not protecting that was too strong word, but caring was nice, he cared for him. Well John did care too, but it wasn't the same, John was like damsel in distress. They were walking hand in hand, fuck how stupid that must have looked. Jim squeezed his hand harder, it made Sherlock forget about the surrounding world, just focus on the warm hand. It's funny how someone's presence can do that.

Jim was leading them to a shitty motel. Sherlock didn't mind, as a matter fact he felt a bit tipsy. He wasn't really a drinker, so he got drunk pretty easily. Once they reached to the motel, Jim brushed his cheek lightly and told him to wait for him while he'd get them a room. For a moment Sherlock seemed to slip into his mind. This was bad, really bad. They shouldn't be doing this, he should drag Moriarty to Lestrade and he would deal with him. But he didn't, he wanted to be there, he wanted Jim, it would be pointless to try to deny it now. It wouldn't make any difference. 

A hand grabbed his shoulder and started to drag him towards the room.

"Come on you daydreamer, we have got something better to do than just dreaming." Jim said amused.

"Are you sure that nobody followed us?"

"I'm certain, and besides I have my ways keeping people quiet."

"I was mostly worried about Mycroft."

"Well he's your problem not mine. Why should I care what goes between you two? He doesn't concern me, he can't touch me, no-one can. My web reaches far wider than you can even imagine."

Jim opened the door and they went inside. The room was small, there was only one bed, nightstand, table and two plastic chairs around it. It really wasn't an inviting place even the carpet had stains. But non of that matters right now. Jim started closing the door behind them, when he got it closed, Sherlock took his hands, held them above he's head. he pushed him against the door, Sherlock inched his knee between Jim's legs, making him spread them wider apart. There were no words, it was mutual desire. They just looked into each others eyes, they were burning with lust, pure lust. Sherlock pressed his lips against Jim's. In that moment everything around him seemed to fade away. Nothing mattered, nothing made any sense. There was just him and Jim. Nothing else, their bodies melted together, into some oblivion. The world around them could have ended and either of them would have even noticed. 

The kiss felt like a battle, nobody was really in charge. Tongues brushing against each other, it was wet and slippery. The kiss was so passionate that it was almost sloppy. They were like licking all over the others face and lips. The fact it was so sloppy made it even hotter than it all ready was. 

Air, Jim needed air. He struggled to get his hands free, he took Sherlock by the shoulders and pushed him away. He was breathing heavy. Brain overwritten by lust, it struggled to form any words.

"And what..(exhale) have you been watching this time?"

Sherlock blushed and turned his head away, he looked down to the floor.

"Porn." He said quietly.

"Well honey, watching porn is normal, but you can't really learn from it. I'd be more than happy teach you how to do it properly." Jim said teasingly.

"How says I need teaching?" Sherlock said, feeling more confined about himself.

"Well then, give me your best shot." Jim’s voice was daring. 

Sherlock just went for it. Hands slowly felt the chest of the criminal. This was all new to him, exspecially when he hadn’t had the change to fully touch Jim. Hands felt shape of the upper body, it was thin, not buff, chest felt kind of flat, like 12 year old boy’s body. Sherlock run his fingers in Jim ribcage. Sherlock placed his hands back in Jim’s shoulders, starting to pull down his suits jacket. Jacket drop on the filthy floor. Sherlock studied carefully Jim’s appearance. He didn’t do anything, he just waited there with his body relaxed, wanting, pupils wide as plates, his breathing wasn’t even, it was merely just panting. 

Sherlock licked Jim’s lower lip, just to see what he really tastes like. It was a mix of gold Malboro, vanilla and dark chocolate. Sherlock’s fingers stated to unbutton Jim’s blouse. When the first three buttons open, Sherlock slipped his hands inside the blouse. Fingertips touched the collarbones, pointy, visible to the eye, thump brushed over the little pit above the joining point of the collarbones. Sherlock recalled Jim saying he liked it rough. And Sherlock wanted to be bad. Hands grabbed firmly the edges of the blouse, quick pull to the opposite directions and buttons flew around the floor, and Jim let a moan of pleasure. Oh he was pissed all right that Sherlock ruined his blouse, but pleased with himself, because this side of Sherlock was his creation. 

Sherlock yanked quite violently Jim’s blouse completely off. Then he stripped his own jacket away. Sherlock took Jim’s hand and placed a soft kiss to it, then he pulled the master mind closer to himself and spin him like they were dancing across the room, letting go when Jim was in front of the bed. Jim fell onto the bed. Sherlock growled on top of him. 

“Just how rough you like it?” Sherlock said, voice tripping with sexual vibes. 

“As rough as you dare.” Jim said with a sinister smile on his face.

“Don’t dare me, because you have no idea just how bad I can be.”

“Then you are just the man for my taste honey, bring it.”

Sherlock raised Jim’s hands above his head, taking his lower lip between his teeth, pulling it violently before letting go. Sherlock traced his fingers along his lovers arms, brushing over the armpits, making Jim tremble. Jim’s naked upper body looked tempting, Sherlock gazed at the slightly erected nipple, he brought his fingers to play with it, twisting it. He leaned closer to take it between his lips, soft kiss before he bite down on it. That made Jim lean his head onto the mattress, hands gripping tight the sheet, teeth bite down hard against each other, groans escaped from his mouth.

“Harder, bite harder.” Jim’s voice begged. 

Sherlock bite down even harder, making it almost bleed. Sherlock started to rub his hips against Jim arousal. He let Jim’s nipple go, he started to kiss, lick and bite all over Jim’s upper body. Sherlock got the neck area. He licked vein in it, Jim pulse was high, almost heart attack high. Sherlock bite down just above the collarbone, he could almost taste the blood in his mouth. The mark he left behind was already violet red. 

“Is that all you got, you sissy?” Jim dared Sherlock even more.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment before he sat up on top of Jim. He looked directly into Jim’s hazelnut brown eyes. He sunk his nails into Jims chest, and clawed it so rough that blood started to drip for the marks. Jim’s breathing sounded like dog, he was panting so hard.

“More, give me more.” Jim moaned

It might haven’t been Sherlock brightest idea, but he slapped Jim hard on the cheek. That seemed to really wake Jim up. It was like he shifted to another gear. He sprung up so quickly that it made then fall onto the floor. This time Jim was on top of Sherlock. 

“That was excellent love, but now it’s my turn. You ruined my blouse, so let me return to favor.”

Jim ripped Sherlock’s blouse apart.

“It’s so much more fun for you to go home without a blouse, John would be so worried what has happened to you, be sure to tell him that it was me.” Jim said firthing. 

“And what if I don’t?” Sherlock hissed back.

“I would advise you not to temp me darling, I can be so nasty, you know.” Jim said smirking.

“But hush now love, unless it’s something dirty.” Jim said with a wink

The marks from last night were still visible on Sherlock’s body. Luckily there was room for more. Jim grabbed Sherlock’s curls, leaned closer to kiss him with passion. Hand slipped down to Sherlock’s arousal, he felt the thickness of it, when he pet it. Sherlock’s back curled with pleasure. Jim unbuttoned Sherlock’s pants, took a firm grip around it and started jerking him off. Another hand was at Sherlock’s throat, squeezing it.

“I dare you not to moan.”

It was extremely hard not let out any noises, especially when his hand was around him. Sherlock bit down hard on his own lower lip, making it bleed. Jim added more fuel when he began to suck Sherlock’s neck. Still Sherlock was able to keep himself quiet. Jim just gave him a smirk, when he took it in his mouth. Jim mouth was so hot, like it was burning with passion, Sherlock just couldn’t take it anymore, and he opened his mouth and moans came out. 

Jim lifted his head up. “I didn’t think you would break down so easily, well lack of experience can do that to you.” Jim said laughing. 

Jim dug up a small bottle of lube from his trousers pocket. Jim stripped his pants and boxers away. 

“Isn’t it different to see a man completely naked in front of you, than just be inside of one with your eyes folded? Does it make you feel repulsive?”

“No it doesn’t, I’ve never thought that sex was just a privilege between a man and a woman. People like what they like, I just happen to be attracted to you, and only you. Otherwise I consider myself to be asexual.”

“Let’s keep it that way, you are mine and only mine.”

Jim poured the lube onto his hand, he covered Sherlock’s penis with it. Nice and slippery. Sherlock sat up, leaning into his hands. Jim took a grip from Sherlock’s shoulders and slowly pushed himself on Sherlock. You could see expression of pain in Jim’s face when he reached to the bottom. But then the pain turned into pleasure. Jim started to move his hips, first up and down at slow pace. When he got used to the feeling of something being inside him, he added twists to his hip movements. 

Sherlock’s hands took a grip from Jim’s bottom, making him move even more. Sherlock found the rhythm and started trusting against Jim’s movements. Jim gripped Sherlock’s curls violently, yanking them. He buried Sherlock’s face into his chest. Their moans filled the room, and they blended together so well, that you didn’t know who made and what sound.

Sherlock took a firm grip from Jim’s waits, other hand pressed against the floor. He started to bend towards the floor, Jim on the bottom, Sherlock on top. Jim lied on the floor and Sherlock was on his knees, he grabbed Jim by his kneecaps and pulled him closer. He pushed himself back inside of him. Hands were on Jim’s hips making him lift up his bottom, Jim got the hint and wrapped his legs behind Sherlock. The thrusts weren’t slow and nice any more, they were rough and fast. Jim felt almost like they were slitting him half. He kept pulling his own hair and screaming out from pleasure. 

“Oh fuck, god, FASTER!” Jim shouted “Break me”

Sherlock thrusts were as fast he was able, he was panting hard, so near the edge. Jim’s arm was in front of his face, he bit down on it, stopping himself from screaming. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna.. I’m-“ Jim realized himself with a loud scream. 

It was a miracle that Sherlock was lasted even this long, but the contractions in Jim rectum made him come hard. Fingertips dug into Jim’s hips so hard that they left bruises behind. Sherlock collapsed panting on his back. 

For a few minutes they lied on the floor in silence.

“That was amazing..” Sherlock finally said, still panting.

“Yes, it was.” Jim replied with his eyes closed. “Fancy a cigarette?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Jim got up and dug up a pack of gold malboro from his jackets pocket, he drew one for Sherlock. He got on the bed, lied in there, pulled the sheets over himself and light the cigarette up. Sherlock wobbled on to the bed as well, lied next to Jim under the sheets and Jim offered him the light. Jim placed the ashtray between them. They smoked in silence. The room filled up with thick smoke. They both put their cigarettes out.

“And don’t you fucking dare try to cuddle.” Jim said firmly.

“Cuddling? I’m not into that.”

“Good, neither am I.”

Jim woke up and felt a hand around him, were they spooning?! How could have he fallen asleep? What time it was? Jim glanced at the clock, 5 am in the morning. Fuck fuck Jim thought. How could have this happened? Usually he suffered from insomnia. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep. Have he really felt that safe around Sherlock? He had to get out of the before he started to panic. He got up, slowly, he didn’t want to wake Sherlock up. He got dressed, or at least what was left of them. He opened the door quietly and stepped out. It was supposed to be a fairytale, not real.


	8. Fairy tales are the best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, this is going to be so much fun :D a bit funnier and lighter chapter.

Eyelids felt heavy, body was trembling from pleasant pain. Lips were swollen from all the kissing that had happened yesterday. The pillow against his cheek felt wet, it was a mix of drool and blood. It must have been a very very naughty wet dream. Well he couldn’t blame himself considering after what had happened. Sherlock yawned and rubbed his face. He finally brought himself to open his eyes. The room was dark, all the curtains were shut. It didn’t take long for Sherlock to realize that Jim wasn’t there anymore. He felt the bed, cold. So Jim must have left some time ago.

His whole body felt heavy and muscles were tensed. Sherlock hadn’t known that having sex was so hard on the body and that it took so much energy. Sherlock glanced at the nightstand, clock was ten past nine. There was also a note which said: read me. How corny, Sherlock thought, Jim had leaven him a note. Mind swimming in curiosity, Sherlock took the note, opened it and read it. Then he reread it. No, this doesn’t make any sense. “Don’t contact me ever again. JM” It sounded even more stupid when he read it aloud. Was it another dare or what? It couldn’t be for real? They had had fun, right? The game was on and stuff. Had he done something wrong?

 Sherlock didn’t know jack about relationships, since it was pretty clear to him that they had some sort of _relationship_ now. Soul mates Jim had said. Might be, might not be. He would have to find out. Now when he really thought about it, he did feel somehow rejected, revering to that Jim had left him there alone and the mysterious note. Not that it was something sentimental and shit, but Sherlock could have used a hug now. Loneliness was his friend, so why was he so scared of it now? All the pleasure for his mind and body faded, it was replaced with the same old bitterness, which had always craved little holes into his heart. _Heart_ … Yeah, like he would even have one. But it did beat right now, filling his veins with poison, _his_ poison. Lips like venomous poison. Now he understood what Jim had meant by that.

Memories about being rejected when he was little flooded into the mind. A freak. Always the freak. Being alone, it had gotten easier over the years, he had even gotten to rely on the feeling. To build walls so high, that no one could climb over them. The thing about his walls was funny. People had tried to climb over them, like John always did. But this time it felt like _he_ was breaking them. No one could break Sherlock Holmes’s walls, or could they?

Time to face the humiliation and go back to home. Without a blouse, body exposed. This time Sherlock couldn’t rely on luck that John wouldn’t be home. John would have questions, and Sherlock didn’t really have answers to them. Not real ones anyway. Sherlock got up and put on what was left of his clothes. He slipped the note safely to his coat’s pocket. He opened the door and started walking towards baker street, he didn’t want to take a cab, walking would clear his mind, some fresh air was good.

\--

It was Saturday morning, well depending what you consider “morning”, because the clock was almost 11 am. John was sitting on his chair reading the newspaper. He couldn’t really focus on anything he read, his mind was already occupied by something else. The great Sherlock Holmes. He could be a fucking brat sometimes. Annoying and misleading text, “Come at once, could be dangerous.” And all that for a needing to borrow his phone. The most harsh person he had ever met, but yet the most brilliant as well. Speaking of the devil, the door opened and Sherlock stepped in. John looked at Sherlock and his jaw dropped.

Sherlock was a mess. Hair was messy, clothes were dirty, he looked cold and broken.

“My god Sherlock, are you all right?” John’s voice was sincerely worried.

“Just marvelous, thank you.” Sherlock responded, but he didn’t look John into the eyes, which was odd, Sherlock always looked at the people whom he was speaking to.

Sherlock began to take off his coat, revealing his naked upper body, covered in bite marks, claw marks and chin covered in dry blood.

“Don’t lie to me, you are not okay… Are those hickeys?” John’s voice was worried, but when he noticed the love marks it changed to confused.

“As a matter of fact, they are.” Sherlock went to his room to put on a shirt and came back to the living room.

“Have you been having _sex_?” John’s voice was still confused, but slightly amused.

“Well isn’t that obvious?” Sherlock snorted.

“Yeah, but sex…”

“Yup, it’s called intercourse, where the man puts his penis inside woman’s vagina or in a man’s rectum.” Sherlock stated.

“I know how it works, wait a minute… Man’s? Have you been sex with a man?” John didn’t even know what to think about anymore, his thoughts wondered from kissing to sex and Sherlock having sex with a man. John shook his head, no he didn’t want that image stuck in his mind.

“Does it make any difference who I have sex with?”

“Just out of curiosity, do I know him?” John asked.

Sherlock really didn’t want to have this conversation, not with John anyways. Half truths only.

“No you don’t technically know him.” Sherlock responded.

“Do you want to play more of my mother, or can I be excused?”

“Well it isn’t any of my business what you do in your free time, but could you at least tell me if you are going to be out all night so I don’t have to worry?” John said.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going to the take a shower.”

The conversation went better than Sherlock had expected. John didn’t seem to be that interested about it, merely curious and amused. If he knew the truth then all hell would break loose for sure. But better this way, little white lies never hurt anybody. Hopefully Jim wasn’t serious about that he’d had to tell John about who he was sleeping with.

\--

Everyone is born evil, but it’s merely if they are raised to be bad or good. Jim had had a good childhood and loving parents, he had chosen to evil. He was to blame, not his parents or his childhood environment. He was really the spawn of Satan. Which made things even more difficult. It is one thing to be smitten about someone, but it was entirely different to feel like this. It started to feel more like love than just playing a control game. More than wanting an equal. Not needing to be noticed, not needing to be loved, but actually _feeling_ love. Love is a dangerous disadvantage. Jim was really going to be insane, and not in a good way. Duh, like being insane was never a good thing, but anyways.

There were many things James Moriarty could control, but the highest power of all faith wasn’t one of them. He liked to think that faith was thing that had brought them together. Faith had created both of them. Evil couldn’t survive without the good. Speaking of control… Jim wasn’t sure that he could even control himself anymore. That’s why he had left the note. Part of him wanted Sherlock to stay away from him, because he knew that he would destroy him, break him, mentally torture him till he was dead. But the other part was curious about the game, was Sherlock willing to take it further despite the warning?

\--

It had been weeks since their last meeting. Not a single message, not a single call. Simply nothing. Sherlock was starting to get irritated. He had started to wonder if this was it? Moriarty’s criminal web seemed to slumber with the criminal. Sherlock was getting so bored that he couldn’t bare it anymore. There was nothing stimulating, no interesting cases. Everything practically screamed dull in his face.

Then a thought popped up in his mind. Rather childish idea, but then again, it was fun and psychotic in a way. An invitation. Sherlock posted a video on his website. It was a cartoon video where man (which represented Moriarty) shot another man (Sherlock) on the face, set his corpse on fire, poked it with needles and finally threw it in a shedder and laughed when body pieces flew around the screen. Then the video went plank, it started again there was a man dragging another man and threw him in jail, pares appeared to the screen. It went plank again. Then there was a text which said: _Play again for alternative ending_. Now Sherlock would just have to wait for Jim’s response.

\--

It was a quiet Monday afternoon, Sherlock and John sat quietly drinking tea. Jim still hadn’t responded to Sherlock in any way. Then there was a knock on the door. Both heads turned to face the door. A man stepped in the room. Sherlock face got pale. Like all life had just ran away from it. It was Jim. Jim Moriarty standing in their living room. Fuck.

“Hello.” Jim said playfully.

John looked at the man, but then he realized that he knew him from somewhere. Oh, the late night client from fey weeks back. Why had he come back now?

Sherlock just started Jim, face expression telling to Jim: Oh you bastard. Jim just chuckled.

“Oh darling, would you come here” Jim said to Sherlock

Darling… What the fuck was going on here John thought.

Sherlock walked beside Jim, still giving him the fuck you-looks. John looked at the both of them confused.

“This is a clie-“ Sherlock started to say, but Jim kicked his leg.

“James Moriarty, hi.” Jim introduced himself to John.

Tea mug dropped to the floor from John’s hand.

“ _The_ Moriarty?” John asked voice shaking.

“The one and only” Jim said laughing.

“Sherlock, what is going on in here? Please tell me I’m dreaming.” John said

Jim gave Sherlock the I’ll murder someone if you don’t tell the truth-look. Sherlock gulped. Fuck.

Sherlock took Jim’s hand and said: “Well Jim is sort of my _boyfriend_.”


	9. All work and no play makes John a dull boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry short chap, mostly dialog.

_Boyfriend_ , that didn’t sound right, but else was he supposed to call him? They were enemies and equals, but do they normally share a bed and do all kind of dirty, nasty stuff when mummy and daddy aren’t home? They could be lovers, right?

“Boyfriend? Ha, are you kidding me dearest? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. No no no, you are my fun toyboy, love.” Jim snorted

“Oh really, please do tell me exactly who dick was in who’s arse? Admit it, you want me, you don’t just play with me.”

“Fuck off, correct me if I am wrong, but who followed who and where and did what? Who got dirty and fucked my brains out, because certain someone was playing my game?”

“Ha, and who leaved a bloody note like a frightened schoolgirl, mean how corny is that? You fancy my brains and body, you couldn’t survive without me. You’d die from boredom. And why you even are here if you don’t want to be with me?”

Jim narrowed his eyes: “Same goes for you love. I have my reasons for being here.”

Sherlock and Jim were circling each other like sharks, deducting every movement the other made. Their argument looked like teenagers fight, all it was missing was a catfight. Slapping, scratching and screaming, lots of screaming.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP BOTH OF YOU! You are like bloody children! Sit down, now, on the sofa!” John shouted

Sherlock and Jim looked at each other, like they weren’t sure why John was so mad. They were just having a conversation. They rolled their eyes and sighed and finally they sat down.

John wasn’t feeling alright, this must be a dream, this can’t be happening. His hands were shaking, he kept rubbing his face like there were bugs inside his skin which just kept moving around, roaming all over his face. Like a sracth you can’t seem to reach. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He sat on the table.

“I can deal with one big child, but not with two. Your asses stay clued on the sofa, I’m calling Greg.” He said.

“Greg who?” Sherlock asked confused.

“Lestrade, you dum… Never mind.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Jim smirked.

“And why is that?” angry reply echoed in the flat.

“Oh, I don’t know… Certain pictures of you might spread…” Jim said with grin on his face.

“What pictures?” John’s voice was confused.

“Pictures of you fiddling with yourself… While watching gay porn.”

Sherlock looked at John and almost started to laugh, but he was able to contain himself. He had made certain deduction of John being gay, well bi-sexual at least, but this was way too funny to be true. It was like a bad sitcom.

“What the bloody hell? I’ve never… I’ve… Do you have cameras here?” John whispered.

Jim just nodded and chucked.

“Sherlock tell me you didn’t know about this?!”  John’s voice sounded so angry like he was about to murder someone.

“I might have known…” Sherlock said avoiding John’s gaze.

John’s hands became fists, knuckles turned white, fighting the urge to punch Sherlock fucking Holmes. Face turned almost red with anger. John closed his eyes and breathed slowly, in and out. Exhale inhale.

“I swear to god I’m going to kill you someday…” John said trying to control his voice.

“I’m sorry, but it was part of the game.” Sherlock said.

“What game? God Sherlock, this isn’t a bloody game! There are people and they have lives, I HAVE a life. Please just explain to me this situation.”

Sherlock took a deep breath before he started explaining John about what was going on between him and Jim Moriarty.

“And then he came to the flat and we went to the bedroom and he blind folded my eyes and he bite my neck and started rub his erection against mine… and then…”

“Stop right there! Bloody hell, I don’t want to hear about you having sex.”

“But those are the best parts Johnny boy.” Jim winked at John and smirked.

“Well, I still don’t want to hear them!” John said firmly.

Sherlock continued telling the story without the sex parts.

“And here we are.” Sherlock said.

“That still doesn’t explain what Moriarty is doing here now.” John stated.

“Please do call me James.” Jim said.

Sherlock turned to look at Jim confused. Eyes narrowing, licking his lips before he spoke.

“How come I get to call you Jim then?”

“Because you are special, love.” Jim said and brushed smoothly his hand in Sherlock’s cheek. Thump running over Sherlock’s lips.

“ _James,_ would you just fucking answer the question?” John interrupted.

Jim stopped what he was doing and turned his piercing gaze to John.

“Well _Johnny boy,_ I came here to show you that Sherlock belong to _me._ He is my property, and _mine_ only.” Jim gaze was furious, like it was meant to kill John if he laid his doctor hands on Sherlock.

You could almost see Sherlock blushing. He felt good about someone saying words like that about him. Even though Moriarty was way too obsessed than loving, it felt nice. It did make him feel special.

“Ha, he is all yours. I mean I do love him, but not like that. I can trust him with my life and all, but still. He is just my friend.”

Sherlock was relieved, because he had thought that John fancied him.

It wasn’t normal for Jim to feel confused. He was certain that the doctor had feeling for Sherlock. All the dirty looks John always gave Sherlock, like they were meant to devour Sherlock. Luckily he didn’t have to speak, because Sherlock opened his mouth.

“Then why you watch gay porn?” Sherlock asked.

“I might fancy someone else…” John said blushing.

Both consultants lifted their heads, eyes attacking John, deducting, noticing every fiber on his clothes, every hair, every trace of mud on his shoes.

“STOP IT! It is none of your business. That’s it I’m going for a walk.” John said and jumped up.

“Sherlock, when I come back you better not be doing anything dirty, better if James isn’t here then.” John grabbed his coat and opened the door.

“I don’t approve this at all, but I do hope you be very happy and hope you love each other to death.” John said smirking.

“I DO NOT LOVE HIM!” Jim and Sherlock shouted at the same time.

“Yeah, and I have tea with the tooth fairy every morning.” John said before he vanished.

Jim and Sherlock sat in silence, avoiding eye contact and it was awkward.

Movies have created this image of love. Like in romantic movies a couple is ice skating and it starts to snow and it’s like look honey, snow, oooh, lovely, let’s kiss and live happily ever after. When Jim looked out of the window in December and when he saw snow, for him it looked like it was ash coming from the sky. Trees looked like they were dead without leafs. Everything looked like death.

Sherlock cleared his throat.

“So… John going to be gone for a while. Wanna do something fun?” Sherlock tried to sound sensual.

Jim took Sherlock’s hand and turned to face him.

“Tell he darling, what do you think snow looks like?”

“I think it looks like ash. Or sometimes it reminds me of cotton candy, you know, when the snowflakes are big and fluffy?”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Jim stood up still holding Sherlock’s hand, he started to lead them towards Sherlock’s bedroom.

“So honey, what you want to play this time?”

Yeah, maybe this was going to be all right Jim thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta love Sheriarty<3  
> As always sorry about typos & grammar mistakes.  
> Leave me them comments, I don't bite not hard anyways. <3  
> Oh and by the way, spot all the song references (at least the most obvious ones) and I'll sent you something via mail ;)


End file.
